


Make Me Forget

by Marrilyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Takes Her Mind Off Everything That Happened, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, Rowena Is A Mess, Rowena Needs A Hug, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 06:16:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11075742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/pseuds/Marrilyn
Summary: Following her return to life, Rowena needs a distraction. Dean is more than happy to provide her with one.





	Make Me Forget

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



"I can't believe ye talked me into this."

Rowena was furious. Which wasn't exactly news; furious appeared to be her default setting, right alongside snarky and sassy.

This time, however, she appeared absolutely livid. Like all the fury and snark and sass melted into a facial expression Dean couldn't name, but could very well tell what it meant.

"You agreed to it," he told her, a bit too smugly for her liking, which she was quick to show by shooting him a glare Dean was certain had killed before. But no matter how hard she tried to look intimidating, she could barely pass for mildly miffed.

It was kind of hard to look threatening when you were barely taller than a prepubescent child and you pouted like an even younger one.

Dean would never admit it out loud, but he found the sight of her like that, all pouty and pissy, incredibly adorable.

"Only after ye threatened me," Rowena said defensively.

Dean narrowed his eyes at her, bafflement filling his handsome face. "Threatened you?"

If you count offering her yet another favor if she did this, then sure, he and Sam had threatened her.

At first, Rowena had been reluctant. She was still pretty out of it following her latest confrontation with Lucifer. The first time he'd killed her, all her Resurrection Seal had to do was snap her neck back in place and she was good to go.

This time, however, it had taken a lot out of her. The bastard had not only tortured her and mutilated her face to the point where she'd stopped resembling herself. He'd also set her on fire for good measure, just to make sure she wouldn't come back this time.

She did.

And it hurt.

Weeks have passed and she was still recovering from what had happened. She was fine, physically, but mentally she was a wreck. Nightmares haunted her once pleasant dreams. She couldn't stand to even look at fire without her heart jumping in absolute fright. Any time someone would raise their voice around her, all she would hear would be Lucifer cursing at her as he pounded on her while she laid on the ground, helpless and weak. And alone. So completely and utterly alone.

So Rowena sought company. Turns out, men in trashy night clubs had some taste after all; they couldn't turn down an attractive ginger with a charming accent. All Rowena needed to do was flutter her pretty eyelashes and they would be begging on their knees (in some cases quite literally) to take her someplace private and give her a night of fun.

She didn't even need to use magic. Her natural sex appeal was enough to drive any man she'd come in contact with, both young and old, wild with desire.

While the alcohol and sex were good, Rowena was still far from feeling comfortable in her skin again. They say dying changes a person. Rowena couldn't disagree with that.

She needed a distraction, needed something, anything, to feel like herself again. So when the Winchesters had asked her to help them out on a case they were working, she'd eagerly said yes.

She'd still played hard to get and made them almost beg for her help. She had a reputation to uphold; just because she was messed up and needed them to take her mind off what had happened didn't mean they had to know it.

She had her doubts that they saw right through her the moment they'd first laid their eyes on her after thinking she was dead for over a month, but neither of them dared say it out loud. If they did know, Rowena appreciated them keeping quiet and playing along. The last thing she needed was another blow to her confidence now that she was finally starting to rebuild it.

"You didn't _have_ _to_ do this," Dean pointed out, shaking Rowena back to reality, her troubled thoughts sinking back to the depths of her mind.

"Right," Rowena said sarcastically. "Like ye and yer giant brother wouldn't have shackled me if I'd declined."

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. He thought they were past that. "You've got issues, lady."

"How could I not, dealin' with ye two bampots?" Rowena said with a scoff. Some people forgive and forget. She did the opposite – hold a grudge and remember. Always remember. She'd been hurt too many times to just let go of past indiscretions. Fool her once, shame on her. Try to fool her a second time and you're dead.

"If it makes you feel any better, I think you look fine."

Rowena glared at him again, this time looking like she was really considering causing him pain. Dean had to admit she almost looked threatening. _Almost._ She was still tiny and, dare he say, cute, but Dean couldn't deny there was a powerful witch hiding behind that child-like façade. She could crush him and do her nails at the same time without breaking a sweat.

She was clad in a strapless black dress with a lacy hem that barely reached the middle of her thighs. It clung to her body as if it were made specifically with her in mind, the soft, expensive fabric hugging her womanly curves with perfection rarely seen. Black, see-through tights covered her legs, making them look longer – not a lot, but just enough for Dean to take notice. On her feet was a pair of black high heels; she was still tiny, but they at least helped make her appear a few inches taller.

The thing Dean found most interesting, though, was a pair of fluffy rabbit ears on her head the same dark color of her clothes.

The case had brought them to a fetish club owned by witches who, following their kink sessions, would kill their clients and use their body parts for rituals. To get close to them, they had to look the part.

Dean had no trouble donning on a dark tux and completing it with a masquerade mask, but Rowena protested her outfit from the very beginning. Something about it being distasteful and an insult to her reputation and something Scottish Dean didn't know the meaning of, but didn't feel brave enough to ask the explanation for, instead deciding to Google it later on.

He would never openly admit it, but bunny Rowena was a real sight for sore eyes. He didn't know the centuries-old witch had it in her, but here she was, dressed to impress, sexy in ways Dean would have never imagined her to be. She truly was a woman of many talents – and, Dean thought with a grin, attributes. Gorgeous, delectable attributes.

Attributes he should not have been thinking about for she was still a wicked witch that had tried to kill him and had caused him and his brother enough trouble for a lifetime.

"Don't screw with me, Winchester," Rowena hissed in what was supposed to be a threatening manner, but the small pout that followed it erased all threat from her tone. Dean half expected her to stomp her feet to complete the childish impression.

A chuckle escaped him at the thought. He was quick to hide it, but Rowena was nothing if not fast at picking up body language. She knew well enough that her displeasure amused him, and that, in turn, made her very, very unamused.

She stalked over to him, causing him to back into a wall. She pointed a leather-gloved finger at him, getting in his face, and Dean barely resisted the urge to laugh at her raising herself up on her tiptoes to reach his eye level. She may not have looked that intimidating, but Dean knew well enough not to push her buttons too hard. Tiny or not, she was still the most powerful witch alive. What she lacked in size, she made up for in power.

"Ye think this is funny?" she said, voice dangerously low.

Dean shrugged. "I think it's hilarious." Because it was, and because of course he did.

Rowena narrowed her eyes at him, anger flashing over her face, her features twisting into a look that promised death. "Do I look like I'm havin' fun?" she snapped, and then, scoffing, continued: "It's always the same with ye and yer brother – draggin' into things I want no part of and then tossin' me aside like common trash."

Dean frowned, amusement fading from his face, replaced by growing confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Ye know damn well what I'm talkin' about!"

If he did, it was news to him. "All I know is that you agreed to do this – willingly – and now you're making a fuss about it."

"A fuss?" Rowena uttered through clenched teeth, causing shivers to run down Dean's spine. He didn't think it possible, but here she was, red in the face, furious, like a gun on the verge of being fired. "A fuss? Ye people got me killed! Ye got my _son_ killed!"

Rowena swallowed back the sob that threatened to tear from her throat. Tears pooled in her emerald eyes, framing them in red. She and Crowley may not have been close – that was an understatement of the century – but that didn't mean she didn't love him. She'd tried hard not to, convinced herself she hadn't, but the truth was, the bond between mother and child was eternal. Not even years of resentment could sever it.

She had tried to kill him herself in the past, and had at one point thought she had, but things were different now. So many things had happened since then, so many moments allowing them to grow closer. And yes, their last meeting had ended badly, but for Rowena, that was just a new beginning. She was done with revenge, for good now, and was ready to turn over a new leaf.

And now she would never be able to do it for her son had stupidly sacrificed himself for the world.

For the world he would never have a chance to see again.

"What? Not the heartless bitch ye all think of me as?" Rowena snapped as comprehension dawned on Dean's baffled face.

"Crowley did what he did to fix his own mess," he said. "And as for you… Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you the one who helped that son of a bitch escape his cage?"

Right. She _had_ done that. She'd stupidly trusted the devil and it cost her her life – twice. But she wasn't the only one who'd had a hand in it. She was ready to take on her part of the blame, but the elder Winchester was crazy if he thought she'd play the martyr.

"It was yer feathered friend who _did_ let him out, or did ye already forget that?"

"Cas owned up to his mistake!" Dean argued, defensive of his fallen friend. He wasn't going to let her, of all people, tarnish his best friend's memory.

Rowena raised an eyebrow. "Did he?"

"Did _you?"_ Dean countered.

"I think puttin' him back in his cage – or at least attemptin' to –makes up for it," she told him. "Did I mention that he killed me for it?"

"You did, actually," Dean said irritably.

Rowena ignored him. "Ye have no idea what that monster did to me," she hissed, her voice lowering once again.

Dean was pretty sure he did. Lucifer had made sure to describe the whole ordeal in detail over the phone.

"He broke me," Rowena continued. "I promised myself I'd never be weak again, but he made me weaker than I'd ever been before."

Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision, but she wouldn't stop. She _couldn't_ stop. She needed Dean to know what it was like for her, needed him to understand. She didn't know why – all she knew was that she needed to tell someone, anyone, for if she kept it all in any longer, she was certain she'd explode.

"The tortures he'd inflicted on me… I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. Not all of us have the luxury of a supportive family. I was alone when he killed me, and I was alone when I came back to life. I was alone when I had nightmares, when I cried myself to sleep, when I woke up drenched in sweat. I was alone through all that. I _am_ alone. I wouldn't expect someone like ye to understand that."

Dean stared at her, at a complete loss of words. Ever since their talk which she'd thought he'd forget, Dean had known there was more to Rowena than met the eye. But this? He'd never expected anything like it. Rowena was suffering? All that bitchiness had just been a mask for the pain she'd been desperately trying to hide?

Dean understood it all too well. He understood the fear, the open wounds that wouldn't heal no matter how many beers he'd drink or how many hot waitresses he'd take to bed. If it wasn't for Sam, he would've probably ended up on some bench, begging for money and screaming at mouthy teenagers who'd laugh at him.

Rowena was closer to that than he'd thought. He admired her strength to still be herself despite all the hardships life had dealt her. She may not have looked like much, but, Dean thought to himself, she was one of the strongest people he'd known.

"You don't have to be alone," he told her, looking her in the eyes.

She chuckled through her tears. "What – ye'll keep me company? she inquired, then scoffed. "No, thank ye. Hangin' out with ye lot is what got me into this mess."

"If you hate us so much, why did you agree to help us?"

She pondered on the answer a bit before deciding to go with truth. She'd already spilled enough secrets. One more wouldn't hurt. "After weeks of gettin' drunk in filthy bars and wakin' up with strangers, I needed somethin' different."

"You could've called us," Dean told her.

"And what? Poured my heart out to ye? I don't do heart to hearts."

 _Except when you think I won't remember,_ he thought, but didn't dare say it aloud. "Why are you telling me all this, then?"

Rowena sighed. "I guess I just needed someone to know."

"What am I supposed to do with this information?"

"Ignore it. Forget it. Laugh at it." Rowena shrugged. The possibilities were endless; he could do what he wanted, for all she cared. "Whatever ye please."

"You really think I'd laugh at something like that?" Dean asked, offended at the insinuation. There had been bad blood between them, yes, but did she really take him as someone who'd laugh at other people's misery?

A chuckle escaped Rowena's mouth. "Aren't ye a hero."

"No," he said, lightly shaking his head. "Just human. I know we've had our differences–"

"Now that's an understatement," Rowena cut in.

He ignored her remark. "What I'm trying to say is, if you need to talk, I'm here."

She shot him a look of disbelief.

"You're not the only one who's lost people thanks to Lucifer," he continued. "You're not the only one he hurt."

"I appreciate the offer, but like I said, I don't do feelings."

She drew closer to him, lips almost touching his. She could feel his cool breath on her face, a refreshing mint that reminded her of fields and mountains of her homeland. Her eyes lowered to his lips, observing the soft, kiss-thirsty pillows before rising to meet his eyes once more. Green stared into green, like two emeralds clashing against one another, a silent contest they'd both intended to win.

A strange man he was, Dean Winchester. So tough and strong, an alpha Rowena appreciated, yet also sweet underneath all that roughness. They weren't all that different, she and him. She hid her true self, as well. Life had taught her to never let her guard down, to always be prepared for the worst, so she'd built protective walls and worn them proudly, never letting anyone see through them.

Anyone except for Dean.

She didn't know what it was about this man that made her allow him to read her like an open book. All he needed to do was say a few nice words, and there he was, flipping through the pages of her soul. Perhaps she was going soft. Or, even more likely, her long-ago forgotten humanity had started to creep back in, her true self resurfacing little by little, bit by bit.

"What do you do, then?" he asked, voice dropping to almost a whisper. He breathed slowly, shallowly, not daring to blink out of fear of ruining the intense moment. He didn't know why, but he wanted this tension, so thick you could cut it with a knife, to last. He wanted Rowena in his face, wanted her to look at him like that, as if she wanted to both kiss and kill him. It's been a while since he'd gotten this close to someone.

"Nothin' ye can handle," Rowena said, licking her lips in a way that made Dean gulp with anticipation.

"Try me," he said. "I'm a man of many talents."

"I've heard that one before."

He laughed softly. "Not from me, you haven't."

"Prove it, then," Rowena said.

Dean's lips widened into a satisfied grin. Challenge accepted! "What do you want me to do?"

"Make me forget."

She didn't give him time to think of an appropriate answer before crashing her lips into his, locking them in a rough, hungry kiss. Something inside of her stirred at the sensation, her magic, raw and natural and so, so powerful, mixed with desire, making her body ache; ache for him, for his touch, for his lips to devour hers just as hers devoured his.

She gripped the collar of his cotton shirt, loving the feel of the soft fabric against her gloved fingers. She drew closer to him, throwing her other arm around his neck for support. As if on instinct, his hands grabbed her ass, pulling her up and allowing her to wrap her legs around him.

His touch was rough, and Rowena was sure every inch of skin he'd touched would leave bruises, or at least welts, later on, but at this moment it was exactly what she needed. She needed someone to be in control, to make her his and guide her through a world of pleasure she'd lost sight of long ago.

She needed a man who would be rough and gentle in equal measures, someone who would give just as much he'd get without throwing her dirty looks and judging her when she wasn't looking. She needed a man who would make her feel like a woman again, with all her pros and cons; who wouldn't mind her flaws and who'd encourage her strengths.

Dean Winchester was that man.

They broke the kiss for a short moment, both panting heavily, taking in deep breaths to compose themselves. Sometimes, in situations like these, it was easy to forget that they still needed to breathe. The tension was just too much to handle.

Without a word, Dean kissed her again, setting her veins on fire; her blood turned to lava, burning red and hot, her insides melting at the feel of his skin against hers. He picked her up, and she held onto him tight as he carried her to his bedroom.

Slamming the door behind him with all the strength he could muster, not caring if his brother would hear, he lowered her onto the soft, comfy bed before beginning to strip.

"Leave the tie," Rowena demanded, her voice a seductive purr, as he threw away the suit jacket and began undoing the buttons on his shirt.

Smirking, he just about ripped the remaining few buttons before tossing the shirt aside. He quickly slid out of his pants and shook off his shoes and socks, leaving him only in his boxers. The smirk on Rowena's face equaled that of his own as he approached her. She opened her arms for him, wrapping them around his back to pull him on top of her, her lips connecting with his in another earth-shattering kiss.

"Didn't take ye for a boxers guy," she mumbled through kisses.

"Oh, really?" he teased, trailing kisses down her neck. He stopped just below her ear, his lips capturing pale, sensitive skin.

Rowena gasped as he suckled, letting out a loud, satisfied moan. Who would have thought this plaid-wearing Neanderthal had it in him to pleasure a woman such as herself? "Thought ye'd go bare."

"And make it easy for you?" He chuckled, then bit down, prompting the witch to give another, louder moan. "Never."

He rose up to his knees, pulling her up roughly by the arm so he could reach the back zipper of her dress. He pulled it down, then started pulling on the dress. Rowena shook his hand off, pushing herself back to wiggle out of the piece of cloth. She rolled her eyes as Dean tossed it aside, making a mental note to chastise him for his complete and utter disregard for her stuff, and brought her palms to his cheeks, pulling him in for another kiss.

His mouth on hers lit fire to her insides. He kissed down her neck, all the way to her breasts. Taking one firm nipple into his mouth, he sucked, hard. Rowena threw her head back, her breaths shallow and uneven as bliss took over her, consuming her piece by piece with each little suck his mouth graced her with.

Dean's hands pressed hard into her hips. He grunted in annoyance as he grabbed the tights by their hem and started pulling them down her legs.

"These need to go."

"Rip a single hole in them and ye're dead," Rowena said, raising a forefinger in warning.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

He threw her shoes aside as he took her tights off and let them fall beside the bed, ignoring Rowena's protests over his disrespect of her belongings.

"Should've expected nothin' better from a–"

Her chides turned to breathless sighs as Dean's mouth trailed down her abdomen, all the way down to her wet, eager pussy. Sliding her lacy panties down her legs, his lips encircled her clit and he sucked, long and hard. Rowena trembled in both pain and pleasure, unable to stop the moans from tearing from her throat.

Dean's tongue and mouth did wonders to her clit. Each pull and suck sent her into a frenzy of emotions, all stirring inside of her like a volcano on the verge of eruption. Heat pooled between her legs, starting in her core, one heavenly throb after another alerting her of her impending orgasm.

"That's it, Dean," she gasped, voice a mere whisper falling from her trembling lips. "Ye're doin' it, darlin'."

He gave a small smile, licking and sucking harder, his tongue worshipping her like the goddess she was, in a way she deserved to be worshipped. Dean made sure to kiss every inch of her pussy; he wanted to claim her, wanted all of her to be his and his only, even for this one night. He wanted her to forget everything but him, just as she had asked him to make her do.

Dean wasn't anything if he wasn't thorough.

One more suckle and she came undone, screaming his name as both curse and blessing. All the heat rising between her legs exploded, free from her bodily cage. She arched her back, screaming for Dean as sighs overwhelmed her. Her body shook in satisfaction and for a few long, blissful moments the only thing she could do was pant heavily and mutter Dean's name, over and over again, like an echo trapped in lonely mountains.

She closed her eyes until the moment passed, struggling to get her breathing back under control. When she opened them again, she found Dean lying next to her, his eyes curiously observing her.

"How was that?" he asked, a small smile grazing his lips.

"Good," Rowena breathed.

Dean pouted, unable to hide his disappointment at her lack of commentary. He does all that for her, and the best he gets is a mere 'good'? Blasphemy! "Just good?"

She rolled her eyes in her signature dramatic manner. "Ye're not the first man who's ever gone down on me, Winchester. Don't flatter yerself."

"Oh, come on!" Dean whined, prompting her to chuckle. She couldn't help it; she loved pushing his buttons about as much as he loved pushing hers. It was one of the few things they had in common. "I know for a fact it was more than just good."

Rowena chuckled. "Alright, alright. It was fine."

Dean raised his eyebrows. Seriously? "Fine?"

"Decent," she said with a shrug.

"How dare you?" he said, feigning offense.

"What'd ye expect? Endless praise?"

"Now that you mention it…" the hunter teased, prompting the witch to let out a soft laugh.

"Forget it."

Giving another chuckle, she snuggled into his chest. He put an arm around her, pulling her closer and pressing his forehead to hers. She was so tiny, all curled up against him, like a kitten preparing for a nap.

For a moment, he'd forgotten all about her being a wicked witch. Right now she was just a woman; a sad woman who'd been broken more times than he could count and who needed him to put her back together. A woman everyone had always thought the worst of without ever giving her a chance.

A person just like everyone else, with her own, unique flaws and strengths.

"Thank ye," she said after a few minutes of silence, her meek voice startling Dean from his thoughts.

He frowned, confusion spreading across his face. "For what?"

"Makin' me forget."

Smiling, Dean pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. "You're welcome."

**Author's Note:**

> Editors: [OswinTheStrange](http://archiveofourown.org/users/OswinTheStrange/) and [BewitchedSquirrel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BewitchedSquirrel/)  
> I love you guys to hell and back! I owe you big time! ♥♥♥


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